


Bringing Down the Walls Where I'll Find You

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-11-19
Updated: 2006-11-19
Packaged: 2018-09-03 08:49:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8705671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: Written after two prompts. poisontaster's 'Sam/Dean. Dean forgets his own birthday.' and moimoietmoi's 'kissing and a wall!' So poisontaster, I'm afraid this won't be what you had in mind, but this is what the muse gave me...





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

**Title:** Bringing Down the Walls Where I'll Find You   
**Pairing:** Sam/Dean [= incest]  
**Rating:** R  
**Wordcount:** 2260+  
**Spoilers:** There's a big spoiler for "In My Time of Dying"  
**Story Notes:** Written after two prompts. [ ](http://poisontaster.livejournal.com/profile)[**poisontaster**](http://poisontaster.livejournal.com/)'s 'Sam/Dean. Dean forgets his own birthday.' and [ ](http://moimoietmoi.livejournal.com/profile)[**moimoietmoi**](http://moimoietmoi.livejournal.com/)'s 'kissing and a wall!' So [ ](http://poisontaster.livejournal.com/profile)[**poisontaster**](http://poisontaster.livejournal.com/), I'm afraid this won't be what you had in mind, but this is what the muse gave me...  
  
Thanks to the ever so wonderful [ ](http://starwatcher307.livejournal.com/profile)[**starwatcher307**](http://starwatcher307.livejournal.com/) and [ ](http://yami-tai.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://yami-tai.livejournal.com/)**yami_tai** who are both like my very own beta fairies *kisses*  
  
 

* * *

  
  
It feels like forever since they indulged themselves like this, fucking each other in a back alley, fucking against a wall, in the dark, not caring about what happens around them, not caring about how cold it is, not caring about _anything_. Sam revels in the knowledge that he's just fucked his brother in the open air. Doing it in a bed is good, but out here - where anyone could see them, could _watch_ them - is sometimes better. Dirtier too, maybe, but dirty can be quite tasty.   
  
Sam is breathing hard, spent. He opens his eyes, bends his head, takes a deep breath - and almost whimpers at the smell coming from Dean. If he had to give a name to that scent it would be 'well fucked'. Sam smiles at the realization that his own smell can't be that different. He tilts his hips up, making them both groan. They've just come and they're not ready for round two yet, but they're still taking pleasure in the soft teasing.   
  
"You feel so good around me, Dean," Sam rasps. "I fucking love that you let me do that to you."   
  
Dean doesn't answer, just presses back against Sam. He doesn't have a lot of room to maneuver, pinned against the wall in front and against his brother in back, but he's not complaining; from the little moan Sam can make out, Dean is definitely still enjoying himself.   
  
It's a good thing Dean isn't thinking of leaving his little prison so soon, because Sam has no intention of moving away yet; he's content to just stay here, buried deep inside his brother. He knows it won't last much longer, but he intends to take advantage of every nuance of the connection; he rocks his hips for a few more moments, trying to extend the exquisite pleasure to the last possible second.   
  
Even though he's not frantically thrusting inside Dean anymore, he maintains the same position as when he was drilling his brother. One of his hands is still curled around Dean's cock, now spent like his own, the other resting on the back of Dean's head, forcing a bowed posture. Sam gets off on the submissive attitude displayed for him - especially because it comes from Dean. Dean, always larger than life, even though he's smaller in stature. It's no secret that Sam loves their height difference, and Dean never fails to call him on it. It was a source of amusement when Sam was a growing teenager and he realized that he was going to be taller than his big brother. Later on, when they started fucking each other, it was a source of endless excitement when he discovered that he could use his height to physically dominate Dean in a way he couldn't outside of sex. Even years later, it's still the same turn-on that it was back then; Sam loves that he can loom over Dean, loves that he can cover Dean completely when he's fucking him, loves that he can be all over Dean, in him, around him, over him, be everything that Dean hears, feels and sees.   
  
Hot pleasure courses down his spine at the thought; he slips his arms around Dean's waist, holding him tight, nibbling and kissing the nape of Dean's neck again, enjoying the softness of the skin. Then he lets his lips roam higher and starts creating a mark on the side of Dean's jaw, even though he knows there'll certainly be hell to pay for that; it's a fee he's more than ready to accept. Dean growls deep in his throat, but doesn't try to stop Sam. He brings a hand up to Sam's head and subtly encourages him to suck harder.   
  
"Want to be marked, Dean?" Sam teases playfully.   
  
"Maybe."   
  
Sam isn't going to ask for an explanation; he eagerly sucks and worries at the patch of skin offered to him. He ends his work by biting hard.   
  
"Geez, man, warn a guy, will you?" But it's clear Dean is getting off on the treatment. He's practically purring at the attention he's receiving from his brother. Sam's smile grows wider; it's all about Dean tonight. This is a special occasion, even if Dean doesn't seem to want to remember.   
  
"You sissy," Sam mocks, but he's still smiling and he immediately soothes the sting away with his tongue, lapping at the reddened area.   
  
They remain locked in an embrace for a little while, winding down gently. Sam has to chuckle at the thought of them both easing down from their high, in no hurry to - well - hurry, even though they're still in this dirty alley. Normal and conventional is for other people; their behavior is nothing new.   
  
"Thinking of maybe pulling out one day?" Dean finally asks lazily, his head turned so that he can kiss Sam before he pulls back and runs his tongue over Sam's lips.   
  
"Guess I'll have to," Sam whispers, licking his own lips and tasting his brother in the process. He bends his head again and runs a path from Dean's lips to his cheek, nuzzling him. He finally gives in to the inevitable and pulls out of his brother, feeling the loss keenly. He presses close to Dean's back, hands caressing the skin on the flat stomach.   
  
After the rush of making out and fucking Dean against the wall, Sam's mind is finally registering the cool air. January isn't exactly the best time to fuck outdoors, even if it's not excessively chilly here in Coushatta, Louisiana. "Aren't you a bit cold?" he still asks Dean.   
  
"Now that you mention it."   
  
Sam steps backward so that they have enough room to straighten up; they pull up their jeans and buckle their belts, making themselves presentable. Sam is thankful for their motel's proximity; sticky and messy is good when you're in the middle of having sex, but it becomes far less glamorous after you've come back to Earth.   
  
He watches as Dean closes his jacket.   
  
"Good thing we finished when we did. I didn't want to see my balls disappear inside my body, man. Or my cock shrivel to nothing."   
  
Sam's voice shows his amusement. "Charming picture, Dean, as usual."   
  
"I aim to please," Dean replies, smirk firmly in place. His eyes are particularly bright, testimony to the pleasure he felt just a few minutes ago. His face is flushed, his lips even more tempting than usual; they have that well-kissed look that always makes Sam hungry. Dean leans back against the wall, raising his hands and running them through his hair, as if he was trying to pull his thoughts together. He looks up at Sam and smiles at him.   
  
Sam's eyes don't leave his brother's face and a sudden rush of affection hits him. Dean looks so... relaxed. Calm. Content. Maybe not _happy_ , but since Dad died, happy is a condition they've had trouble finding again. Still, 'content' is good, as is 'sated' and 'relaxed'. Paradoxically, it also makes Sam a bit sad, because today was supposed to go differently. It was supposed to be about birthday wishes grudgingly accepted by a grumpy Dean who would secretly be happy about Sam remembering, even if he refused to acknowledge it. It was about stupid goofy presents and cheap cakes and cold beers in crowded bars. It was supposed to be about them taking some time off from hunting and maybe making Dean feel good about... Sam doesn't want to say it, but he can't help thinking 'make Dean feel good about being alive'. That's all he wishes for Dean on this day, at least. He simply wants him to be happy for being alive for one more birthday.   
  
Except Dean had other ideas. No surprise here either; Dean has turned 'infuriating' into an art. He'd awakened that morning acting like it was the same as any other day. Even now, after a whole day spent with his brother, Sam isn't a hundred per cent sure whether Dean genuinely forgot what the date is, or if he's _pretending_ to have forgotten. The thought makes Sam uneasy; in the past year, he feels as if he's come to a new understanding of his brother. But since Dad died, it feels almost like they've gone back to square one. Almost, but not entirely, and Sam clings to that thought. But it doesn't help him right now. Is Dean in denial, or has he truly forgotten today is the big day? Is he refusing to acknowledge the fact that there won't be any call from Dad wishing him a happy birthday, even if it comes days after the actual date? Could he possibly not care? Sam has a nagging thought that maybe Dean truly is in denial, refusing to acknowledge what day it is. He can't put his finger on it, but he's pretty sure that Dean really is just pretending.   
  
Sam isn't certain, though, and it's driving him a bit crazy. It also annoys him; this is so fucking typical of his brother. He almost called Dean on it, almost forced him to talk about it. But in the end, he decided not to. He doesn't want to push anymore, doesn't want to make Dean face things he might not be ready to face. Sam pushed and nagged and insisted about talking those few days following their father's death and, even though Dean did confide in him in the end, Sam still isn't sure that it served any purpose. He doesn't regret doing what he did; he was handling things the best he knew how, trying to help his brother while at the same time trying to cope with that unthinkable loss himself... but sometimes he's afraid he hurt Dean more than helped him. In any case, he's hoping Dean has heard the message loud and clear, that Sam is here for him, no matter what. Still, he'll quit pushing. For today at least. It's his birthday present to his brother - to go along with the charade. Sam can pretend too; he'll give Dean the oblivion he needs. Dean isn't the only one who excels at this game.   
  
A soft tap on the side of his head brings him out of reverie.   
  
"Hey, Sam, wanna come back to Earth? I'd say you're having a vision, but you're not doing the squishy face, so I guess that's not it."   
  
"Squishy face? What are you, ten?"   
  
Dean smiles. "I thought I was seven?"   
  
It's on the tip of Sam's tongue to joke about birthdays and growing up, but he quickly realizes it would defeat the purpose. He doesn't say anything, just looks at Dean with what he's sure is a stupid, fond expression.   
  
Sam expects Dean to make fun of him and to call him on it but, to his surprise, Dean doesn't say anything either. What he does is bring a hand up to cup Sam's jaw before wrapping it around the back of his head. Sam feels the pressure of his brother's hand, loving the sensation, as Dean tugs him toward his mouth.   
  
Dean traces Sam's lips with his tongue, coaxing them open and Sam complies eagerly. He presses Dean's back against the wall again, one hand rising to rest on the flat surface beside Dean's head. The other slips around Dean's waist, under the jacket and shirt, caressing the warm skin.   
  
Dean's hand is firmly cupping Sam's head, fingers entwining in his hair, playing with the strands. He applies pressure, letting Sam know that he's exactly where Dean wants him to be. Not that Sam is thinking of going anywhere. Dean's mouth is hot and wet and Sam loves how their tongues touch each other, teasing, playful. The playfulness passes, and their kiss becomes more serious. Dean's hand in Sam's hair grips tighter as they lick and suck; the other hand grasps Sam's hip and rests there as if it isn't ever going to leave. Sam's fingers dig into Dean's skin as their kiss deepens; it feels like they won't ever have to come up for air.   
  
Sam hears soft moans and whimpers and he has no idea whose voice it is, his or Dean's. Probably both. He doesn't care. They finally part with soft gasps and intakes of breath, their chests heaving; who knew kissing your brother in a dark alley could be so good? He smiles, and nuzzles the side of Dean's head. Dean accommodates the caress before brushing his lips against Sam's again. It feels like a butterfly touch this time, almost like a fleeting thought, but it makes Sam tingle in all the right places.   
  
Dean tugs Sam's head toward his once more and he presses his forehead against Sam's, silent. They stay that way for a long moment, neither of them wanting to break the contact. When they finally do and Sam looks at Dean, he sees something in his brother's eyes. He can't exactly name it, but the look speaks of relief and gratitude. Dean knows. He knows what Sam has done for him today, and Sam has the confirmation he needed; Dean never really forgot. Or maybe he did for a while, but he certainly worked to achieve it.   
  
When they leave and head to the Impala, they don't speak. Dean doesn't say 'thanks' - not in words, at least - but Sam hears it, anyway. Loud and clear. He doesn't need the words, not really. It's enough to know that he could do this for Dean. The rest is unimportant, mere details.   
  
Fin   
  
PS: Why yes, I do have a Height Difference kink so, guess what? Sam has one too ;-)


End file.
